


Acceptance / Anticipation [House of Kink 2]

by AlexisGreen



Category: Muse
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisGreen/pseuds/AlexisGreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weeks of training and conditioning broken, together with Mr. Bellamy's first and foremost rule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acceptance / Anticipation [House of Kink 2]

_Addiction, Dominic realised, came in many forms and the most dangerous had just sunk his teeth in his neck, and had slipped his hand inside the curls of silk and squeezed him once, just once, to deliver him into oblivion._

 

The cold water wiped some of the satiated daze, which exhausted his body and brain. Leaning on the pristine wash basin, Dominic wondered when exactly did the rabbit hole that was his new lifestyle consummate him so completely.

He studied his own reflection in the mirror. Narrow, black piping lined the collar and cuffs of the shirt he’d thrown on before he’d padded into the bathroom. He fingered the purple bruise left behind by a bite mark. That was when he'd lost it, last night. Weeks of training and conditioning broken, together with Mr. Bellamy's first and foremost rule. _Not without permission_. Mr. Bellamy's cologne still clung to the fabric and Dominic pulled the shirt closer to his body. He lost himself in the fragrance and the memory of last night.

Routine, discipline filled most of his time since he'd joined the club. Secretarial duties now took over the daytime. His nights were busy in Mr. Bellamy's service. Until Mr. Bellamy went away on business for weeks, and left Dominic to figure out on his own what to do with half of his time. Those weeks proved enlightening. Surprising even. Then Mr. Bellamy returned - several days earlier than planned - and requested Dominic's presence immediately. He was used hard and fast, twice, and…

Absorbed in the quiet moment, he missed the footsteps that followed him. He felt the soft tickle of the keeper at the end of the crop. The implement had been left on his nightstand sometime in the early hours of the morning. It was hard to miss. A reminder, or a promise, it hardly mattered how Dominic saw it. It now lifted the shirt to expose his bare bottom, flesh tan under the white fabric.

“Is it time,” Dominic asked, voice small, a tremor of apprehension slipping through.

The punishment had been agreed last night, the transgression briefly forgotten in the heat of the moment. Balance had to be restored though. Trust had to be earned back. Dominic wouldn’t have changed a single thing though.

“It’s time,” Mr. Bellamy confirmed. In front of him, Dominic tilted his head to the right, following his voice. “Although seeing you like that, wearing my shirt like a second skin, I’m not sure if I should use the crop to spank you or to fuck you with it."

The crop rubbed slowly between Dominic's cheeks, pushing to lodge between the flesh, reaching low to tickle his balls. Dominic's hands tightened on the wash basin and his feet moved apart without waiting for another order.

Continuing the slow tease, Mr. Bellamy stepped closer behind him and roughly pulled his head back to catch Dominic's eyes in the mirror. Only their shoulders touched. It made Dominic long to feel Mr. Bellamy's whole body draped along his back, all supple muscle and tight angles.

"Which one will it be, little one," Mr. Bellamy growled. The crop dug harder into the tightness of Dominic's arse, into his formerly private places. Dominic pushed back in greeting. "You want both, don't you," Mr. Bellamy mused, noting with satisfaction the blush that stained Dominic's neck. His teeth attached to the boy's earlobe, biting hard.

A second later, Mr. Bellamy's body heat was gone. "Count for me, little one."

Dominic had less than a heartbeat to brace himself.

The riding crop came down with a swoosh. Dominic dropped his head, bottom lip between his teeth, a moan breaking through as he spoke. "One." A red welt blossomed across the tan buttocks, skin heating underneath in both protest and welcome.

_Acceptance over anticipatio_ n. Ms. Florian's words came to mind, even as his body seized with a tremble.

"Breathe, Dominic," came the encouragement from Mr. Bellamy. Dominic squeezed his eyes shut and gulped mouthfuls of air. One breath, a shudder, two breaths. Another shudder. Mr. Bellamy waited, crop at his side. Finally, Dominic's chest expanded with a deep breath and the exhale blew out clean.

Another strike fell, not hard, but enough for the sting to bite into the flesh. Dominic blinked furiously to maintain his composure, to complete his penance. _Acceptance over anticipation_ , he told himself. "Two," he called out. One breath, no shudder.

The crop licked at his bottom again, this time low on the curve of the buttocks, precise and determined. It drew a line perfectly parallel to the previous strike, leaving a brand of redemption into perfect skin behind. His cock responded with belated eagerness. One breath. Such funny thing, arousal, tingling in his belly like an echo of his chastisement. No panic, no anxiety. "Three."

"Good boy." Hot breath landed just below his jawline. A hint of a stubble grazed his neck. The new order made him jump slightly. "Go back to the bedroom. Lie on the bed. Face down."

The confidence exuding from Mr. Bellamy lifted the hairs on Dominic's neck.  He willed himself to avoid meeting Mr. Bellamy's eyes in the mirror, lest the second half of his punishment not be delivered, and scurried to comply.

Mr. Bellamy knelt at the head of the bed. His cock bounced a little, hard, standing at an angle, while he folded his knees underneath him with the grace of a dancer.

From his position, flat on top of the bedding still smelling of their fucking, Dominic watched and waited. Greed, no matter how tempting, would be his undoing again if he wasn't careful. With a crook of his hand, Mr. Bellamy lifted Dominic's head to rest on his thigh. Long fingers caressed through the hair in long strokes, a first reward for Dominic's obedience so far. The shortish strands of hair had darkened with sweat. Endorphins still ran rampant through Dominic's body. The same talented fingers massaged the back of Dominic's neck, speaking of trust and safety.

Dominic was grateful that he wasn't required to talk. The past few months had been rife with revelations. Years of drifting had shaped his personality to fit submissiveness as a whole, as a general principle. The details were harder to pinpoint, to reconcile. He'd struggled to acknowledge how much of himself he had to give up. Control, authority, … everything. His judgment transferred to someone else. At first a burden, the submission soon became a relief. A word from Mr. Bellamy - sometimes just a look - was enough to make him feel safe and cherished. There was absolutely no misunderstanding in his mind that he now existed for Mr. Bellamy's satisfaction first, and his pleasure later. And yet, executing on his responsibilities came more naturally than he would have ever dared to hope. He'd given up a lot, indeed. But the months had gone and his trust grew a little at a time, until he'd made his peace and put his future into Mr. Bellamy's hands. This, now, though, cradled next to Mr. Bellamy's body, this wasn't just safety and arousal… This came close to love.  

A swipe of a finger along his cheek brought his eyes up to Mr. Bellamy's.

"Suck," Mr. Bellamy beckoned, the command low in his throat. Warm precome trailed along Dominic's cheekbone and the boy hurried to wrap his lips around the exquisite hardness. Against his eager tongue, Mr. Bellamy's cock felt heavy and hot.

Unsurprisingly, he'd never experienced misgivings with regards to the physical intimacy aspect of his submission. Beyond his sexuality on its own, Dominic found himself irreversibly attracted to Mr. Bellamy. Those hands that manipulated his body into throes of mind-blowing passion, the way he fucked, rough and hard and relentless. The wicked smirk he sported, which turned into a snarl each time he pushed Dominic's face into the mattress and used him. The humour. Even the kindness. That voice that made him want to drop to his knees in worship without a second thought.

And yet, as his mouth worked to accommodate as much of Mr. Bellamy's cock as possible, Dominic knew that his punishment was far from delivered. He closed his eyes. His tongue snaked around the head of Mr. Bellamy's cock, gathering more precome, savouring the taste. _Acceptance over anticipation._

When the tress at the end of the crop rubbed at the valley between his buttocks, Dominic spread his legs without missing a single suck. There was no loud air-cutting this time, just a smooth flick of the crop on his lower arse. A second one followed, hitting his other buttock in perfect symmetry. And then one more in the original spot, then another one marking its twin and so on. The steady rhythm gradually increased in intensity, often just a reminder to Dominic to not slack in his sucking, to not stop until Mr. Bellamy was satisfied.

Vertebrae punctuating the slope of his spine, back stretched, long limbs twitching with the effort of containing his arousal and red welts and splotches marring his arse, Dominic was vain enough to know exactly what he looked like at that precise moment. He hoped Mr. Bellamy approved of the sight.

Dominic felt Mr. Bellamy's hand tighten on his head, bringing his mouth further down on his cock. "Wider," Mr. Bellamy ordered, tapping the back of his right thigh in signal. The velvety steel voice sent goose bumps raising along Dominic's skin. The crop caught the underside of his balls, then, the blow harder than before but caught mid-swing to deliver sting rather than pain. Dominic wiggled his legs further apart, earning himself an appreciative grunt from Mr. Bellamy.

The crop fell again. Intensity spiked, then tapered, and no hit landed in the exact spot twice. The burn just under his skin traveled up his spine. With it, shockwaves from the blows spread into Dominic's belly, forcing his cock to weep in sync with Mr. Bellamy's rhythm. A whimper in his throat escaped before Dominic sucked harder, faster, losing himself into a subspace of desire laced with hurt. He wanted this, he wanted the hurt, he wanted the pleasure, the thrill, the adrenaline riding on the threat of pain. He wanted Mr. Bellamy's cock. His sweaty palms braced on Mr. Bellamy's thighs, just as his master thrust upwards, driving his cock deeper into Dominic's mouth, hitting the back of his throat. The crop carried on falling. First tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and Dominic allowed himself to be used, hard cock now gliding easily in and out, until Mr. Bellamy emptied his pleasure into Dominic's willing mouth. Mr. Bellamy's hand stayed knotted in the boy's hair, anchoring him in place, while aftershocks rocked the slim body balanced above Dominic.

They were a long way away from finished though. "Get it wet. Very wet." The edge in Mr. Bellamy's voice never dulled. "It's all you're getting."

And Dominic wanted to contradict him, to explain how much more he was actually getting, but he was still not supposed to talk and his mouth was busy lubricating the handle of the crop. He swallowed his words. His punishment was not complete and would not be complete until Mr. Bellamy decided so.

 

 

 

 


End file.
